A Moment of Silence for a Dearly Beloved

 

I quit smoking cigarettes about 2 years ago.  I thoroughly enjoyed smoking and quit only because my friends and family became so irritating about the habit that something had to give.  I briefly contemplated running away, but considering the condition of my lungs, I wouldn't have made it very far. 

 

A friend of mine had been fighting the same battle and was introduced to vapor pens by her son.  She hadn't had a cigarette for many months.  When she wouldn't ride with me in my car because of the cigarette stink, I figured it was time to try some vape.

 

My husband got a Z Max (I think that's what it was called) for my mom and me for Christmas.  After about 3 months of smoking and vaping, I was able to completely put those ol' stinky cancer sticks down!

The first vape pen crapped out about 6 months in.  I felt like I was always battling with it-filling it up, changing the atomizers, checking the battery, inadvertently pressing a button and changing some setting, etc.  When I went to get another one, I wanted something easy and small and girly.  I found  easy, but small and girly was impossible. 

The one that met my easy requirement was a Tesla something or other.   It was huge.  And silver. And non-girly.  It was in my price range so I brought it home.   

It worked perfectly and felt good to hold.  You know how it feels when you hold a mag light or a well balanced tool? That's how it was.  A well balanced tool. 

 

The family dubbed him Optimus Prime.  He was a good friend.  He was never demanding.  He never complained.  He never criticized or offered a contradictory opinion. He was reliable.  I took him everywhere with me-the movies, the beach, Great Britain, New Mexico, California.  He was well traveled.  He had been my constant companion for more than a year. 

 

Sadly, Optimus bit the dust yesterday.  I pressed his button and there was nothing but cold and silence.  I changed his battery and atomizer and added fresh e-juice, but nothing revived him.  It was a heart-stopping, panic ridden moment.  The sizzle was gone.  I regained control of myself and was able to find a cheap fill-in, but nothing can replace my precious, Optimus Prime.
Please join me in a moment of silence.






 

Rest in peace, dear friend.  You were loved. 

 



Our Feral Tree

 

Years ago we visited an historic building in the area during Christmas.  It is a beautiful stone building (pretty much a ruin now) that German immigrants dug out of the earth to create a home.  In one of the rooms there was a shaggy cedar tree just sparkling with mercury glass ornaments.  I fell in love! I have wanted a cedar Christmas tree ever since.  Usually we go to a tree farm and walk aimlessly through the rows of neatly trimmed furs and pines.  I always ask if they have any cedars.  They usually look at me like I have a cat on my head and say no.  Apparently, there are not many people out there in love with shaggy cedar trees. 

 

Recently, my son was tasked with clearing a fence row.    Lo and behold, the fence row contained (among the jumping cactus) cedar trees!! 

Dare to dream people-dreams really do come true sometimes.

 

The boys were not thrilled about cutting this out of the fence-their cries of "Mom, it's been raining for a week, we don't want to lay in puddles" and "Mom, those jumping cactus needles hurt" and "Mom, I just saw a poisonous snake slither out of there", were answered with "Suck it up buttercup, I'm not raising ninnies".  We don't mollycoddle around here. 

 

First they did a little clearing with the machete.  Jumping cactus is no joke.

 

Then they discussed who should lay in the mud first.

 

 

 Finally, the little one gets to sawing.  I didn't get a pic of  #1 son pulling it out of the fence because, hey, he's the middle kid.  I forget to document his life sometimes....

 

 And here we are.  The majestic, crooked, shaggy wonder.  The most magnificent tree to ever grace our hall:

We all have our quirks.  So what it's crooked :)

 

 

 

It's straight enough from this angle.

 

 An actual antique ornament from my gramma's tree.

 This one isn't nearly as beautiful as the "inspiration" tree, but I'm happy with it.  Now that I know where to get a cedar, next year's will be even better.

 

In the middle of all your Christmas busyness and craziness, and in the wonder and awe and beauty of this season, don't forget: Jesus is the reason for all of this.  A merciful, wonderful, glorious God.  A God of love, hope, forgiveness and redemption.  We are all as imperfect as my feral tree, but we are loved nonetheless.  Thank you, Jesus.